I recently got a new horse, an older untrained gelding named Magellan.
I also bought his half sister Moriah.
What on earth was I thinking, buying two more horses?
Maybe they would be great trail horses? Maybe I would teach them to drive, a perfect matched pair.
Maybe I would breed the mare, and raise her foal?
Maybe they just needed a home.
I had been looking for a good all-around trail horse. When I went to see him he was pastured in an isolated field and looked half wild. A classic old style Morgan, with solid legs, big head and wild mane and tail, his eyes were well spaced and expressive, and his jaw was broad enough to fit my fist, which means there is good space for a brain, according to horseman lore. His sister Moriah was even more characteristic of the classic solid work horse.I called my husband and said I had found the perfect new horse but that he "has a sister..."
I nicknamed them "thing one" and "thing two," brought them home and put them in pasture right behind the house. They quickly became comfortable around us, watching us as we worked in the garden and quickly learned how to gauge when feeding time was near.
Yesterday, the weather was perfect, a light breeze. I wiped Magellan with fly repellant. He hates to be sprayed, thinks I'm about to kill him when he hears that squeech- squeech sound. I saddled him, and after leading a little, watching how he moved with the saddle, I got on and sat quietly.
He flicked his ears, paying attention, not in irritation.
And so we meandered easily in the pasture, towards his half sister, then a little circle away. "Walk-On" and a little squeeze, a kick to follow if needed. "Ha-Ho," a gathering of the reins, a good full stop.
Such little moments of success contribute to my daily happiness.
I also bought his half sister Moriah.
What on earth was I thinking, buying two more horses?
Maybe they would be great trail horses? Maybe I would teach them to drive, a perfect matched pair.
Maybe I would breed the mare, and raise her foal?
Maybe they just needed a home.
I had been looking for a good all-around trail horse. When I went to see him he was pastured in an isolated field and looked half wild. A classic old style Morgan, with solid legs, big head and wild mane and tail, his eyes were well spaced and expressive, and his jaw was broad enough to fit my fist, which means there is good space for a brain, according to horseman lore. His sister Moriah was even more characteristic of the classic solid work horse.I called my husband and said I had found the perfect new horse but that he "has a sister..."
I nicknamed them "thing one" and "thing two," brought them home and put them in pasture right behind the house. They quickly became comfortable around us, watching us as we worked in the garden and quickly learned how to gauge when feeding time was near.
Yesterday, the weather was perfect, a light breeze. I wiped Magellan with fly repellant. He hates to be sprayed, thinks I'm about to kill him when he hears that squeech- squeech sound. I saddled him, and after leading a little, watching how he moved with the saddle, I got on and sat quietly.
He flicked his ears, paying attention, not in irritation.
And so we meandered easily in the pasture, towards his half sister, then a little circle away. "Walk-On" and a little squeeze, a kick to follow if needed. "Ha-Ho," a gathering of the reins, a good full stop.
Such little moments of success contribute to my daily happiness.
As I sit on my porch and write these words, the thunk and rattle of an acorn falling on the metal barn roof reminds me that another summer is almost over. I will add this to my list of "another perfect day."
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